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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094560">I Won't Hurt You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alxxiis/pseuds/alxxiis'>alxxiis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Way Down You Take Me [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:35:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alxxiis/pseuds/alxxiis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Telyra and Erik venture into Vahlok’s tomb only to find the Dragon Priest already locked in battle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak, Miraak (Elder Scrolls)/Original Character(s), Miraak (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Way Down You Take Me [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1205818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Won't Hurt You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sounds of battle echoed through the halls, bouncing off the stone walls and carrying through every opening. The smell of iron, burnt flesh, and petrichor-like scent of violent magic permeated through the halls and wrapped around Telyra and Erik as they wandered through the ruin.</p><p>“You think it’s the Dragon Priest?” Erik asked.</p><p>“I don’t know anything else that would nearly destroy its own temple trying to protect it,” she remarked, her words punctuated by a shockwave spawned from another explosion.</p><p>“Look,” he said, pointing at a gem-encrusted dagger between the decrepit hands of an inert draugr. “Whoever’s here has to be the worst treasure-hunter ever.”</p><p>Telyra chuckled. “Are you going to take it?” she asked. “Add it to your growing pile of things you have yet to sell?”</p><p>“Not all treasures need to be sold,” he said, reaching out and pulling the blade from crumbling fingers. “And it’s not like you don’t have your own hoard.”</p><p>She continued passed him and motioned for him to follow deeper into Vahlok’s tomb.</p><p>“It’s expected of me,” Telyra retorted. “Dragons are supposed to have hoards.”</p><p>Erik fell in step with her, eyeing his new prize as they trekked further into the ruin, closer to the source of the noise and tremors. As they carried on, the attacks seemed to slow, and Erik and Telyra quickened their pace, passing through the multiple puzzles that had already been solved, avoiding the bits of stone falling from the impacts of spells. They were close.</p><p>A fluttering tingle passed through the Dragonborn’s mind, the sensation that a single person spawned in her, a pull toward something familiar. </p><p>The shouting grew louder, and Telyra was able to make out a few words: <em>vax, firok, zu’u ov hi.</em> The words were split between two voices, one raspy and gargle-like, the other deep, almost melodic. Another rumble, another crack of thundering magic... and then nothing.</p><p>“Who do you think won?” Erik asked, eyeing the engraved walls that showed stories of a time when the dragons ruled.</p><p>Telyra paid no mind, anxiety suddenly spurring her into hurrying passed him. She knew who won last time they battled Vahlok.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked.</p><p>She didn’t answer. A harsh cough echoed down the stairs, and she broke into a run.</p><p>“Telyra!” Erik called, following behind. </p><p>The Dragonborn reached the landing before an opened gate that led to a large, circular room. It dipped down into a lower level with a pool of water in the center, surrounded by bits of the wall and ground and ceiling, a sarcophagus lying in ruin at the end, offering just enough remaining stone to hold up a green-robed, cough-wracked man.</p><p>“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Erik muttered.</p><p>Ignoring him, Telyra rushed forward and knelt beside the tomb. She instinctively reached out but paused, unsure how he would react.</p><p>“Miraak,” she whispered.</p><p>His masked face was slumped forward, and blood pooled in several places on his robes. He made no movement beyond another cough.</p><p>“Miraak,” she pressed, louder. “Please...”</p><p>Her hands wrapped his forearm and squeezed gently.</p><p>He let out a startled noise and pulled away, reaching up with his far hand and readying a spell to attack.</p><p>“Miraak,” Telyra said, grabbing his arm again. “Stop! I won’t hurt you!”</p><p>Through his mask, she could see the glint in his eyes disappear as he blinked at her, recognition seeming to come to him as his far arm fell to his side. After a few moments of simply staring at her, he turned to look at a pile of torn wraps and ash.</p><p>“<em>Nii los drehlaan</em>,” he mumbled. “Vahlok.”</p><p>With careful hands, Telyra began pulling at the fabric of his robes, looking for the sources of the blood. Miraak’s head fell forward again while Telyra began healing the surface of his wounds.</p><p>“So, what are we doing?” Erik asked. “Just waiting around here and healing him?”</p><p>She shook her head. “No,” she replied. “I can barely stop the bleeding. I’m shit at restoration magic. I need to get him to a skilled healer or maybe back to Apocrypha or... We need to get him somewhere safe.”</p><p>“Or you can just leave him,” Erik sneered.</p><p>“I’m not going to let him die,” she hissed. Not the one person who understands, she thought.</p><p>Erik sighed, resigning to squatting on the other side of Miraak.</p><p>“We could take him to the Skaal,” he suggested, holding up his hand when Telyra turned to argue. “We obviously don’t tell them who he is. We say he’s someone who helped us kill that Dragon Priest and he got hurt. I don’t think they’ll question you much.”</p><p>Silent as she considered the idea; the Skaal would have healers, and so long as Miraak didn’t do anything to expose his true identity, it could work. She sighed.</p><p>“And wasn’t he about to keel over when Mora pulled him into Oblivion the first time?” he asked. “If Mora can’t find the Skaal, then he probably won’t find Miraak.”</p><p>“You’re right,” she said. “And I can’t think of anyone else who would have skilled enough healers for...” She gestured to his bloodied body. “This.”</p><p>“I don’t see any way out of here,” Erik said, glancing around the room, “except back out the front.”</p><p>Telyra stood and pulled a magic potion from her satchel. After downing the bitter-tasting mixture, she held out her hands, drawing forward all of her magicka. An orange glowing tendril wrapped around her fingers a moment before a second set of swirling coils surrounded Miraak’s unconscious body. The spell required a great deal of focus and exertion, and she hoped no lingering draugr attempted to jump them.</p><p>“You’ll have to keep guard,” Telyra said as the body lifted into the air.</p><p>Erik nodded once before unsheathing his weapon and taking the front.</p><p>Back across the floating bridge, walking through the dead draugr-laden halls; it seemed ages had passed by the time they’d made it back outside. Sweat lined Telyra’s forehead, her temples throbbing and face losing color, and she lifted Miraak’s body just enough to rest on the back of her horse. Erik quickly grabbed Miraak’s torso and positioned him so he wouldn’t fall off the horse and set to tying him down with some rope. </p><p>Swaying in place, she offered Erik a quick, “Thanks.”</p><p>He smiled, though it faltered when she had to grab the horse’s neck to steady herself.</p><p>“Here,” he said, pulling his own horse forward. “I’ll take yours. You look about ready to drop. And if you go down, he’s probably going down with you, and I don’t want to haul that body back up.” He motioned to Miraak.</p><p>“Don’t purposely drop him,” she nagged, though she smiled. “Thank you.”</p><p>After helping her onto the horse, Erik hauled himself up on his own, and the pair set out toward the Skaal village.</p><p>An uneventful journey for which Telyra silently thanked whatever gods may have been listening. Frea greeted them and was eager to help once they explained the comatose body dangling from Erik’s horse.</p><p>“I told you they’d help,” Erik gloated.</p><p>Frea led them to the guest house and left the pair to prepare Miraak, or “Ragnar” as Erik had called him, as she went to summon the healer. </p><p>“You could’ve picked a better name,” Telyra muttered, chuckling through her exhaustion.</p><p>“It was the first thing to come to mind,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not like they’ve heard the song. I’ll stand outside and keep watch.”</p><p>She began peeling back the layers of blood-soaked robes, trying to ignore the sharp metallic scent that filled her senses. Instead, she focused on the irony of the situation, or even just the strangeness of it all: the Last Dragonborn saving the First, her saving someone who had not-so-long-ago attempted to kill her, her saving someone she’d not-so-long-ago attempted to kill. But given their... alliance--she didn’t know what else to call it--she couldn’t simply leave him to die. </p><p>A hand reached out and wrapped around her wrist, despite the near-complete lack of strength in the grip, it startled her.</p><p>“Miraak?”</p><p>He groaned before muttering, “Telyra.”</p><p>She pried off his hand and placed it on the bed before continuing to carefully remove his robes. </p><p>“They’re bringing you a healer,” she explained, disregarding the sheer relief that flooded her at the sound of his voice. “Just don’t... don’t tell them who you are.”</p><p>“Who?” he asked, turning his head to look around the room. “Where am I?”</p><p>“The Skaal village.”</p><p>He let out what could only be described as a painful chuckle. “I cannot imagine anyone seeking my death more.”</p><p>“To be fair,” she said, offering a small smile, “you did enslave their people.”</p><p>“To be fair,” he countered, a smirk in his weak voice, “I only sought freedom.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes and stripped the last bits of his robes away, revealing a mess of torn trousers and tunic. </p><p>“You’ll need new clothes,” she said. “I don’t think the robes will recover.”</p><p>Again, he chuckled. “It was a matter of time. I do not wish to think about how long I have worn these robes.”</p><p>Telyra moved to where his head rested and placed her hands on either side of his mask.</p><p>“Don’t,” he said, reaching up and grabbing her forearms. “I... do not wish my mask removed.”</p><p>Raising a brow, she replied, “You’re just going to ignore any head trauma?”</p><p>He pulled her arms down away from his head as it shook. “Please.”</p><p>With a sigh, she pulled her arms away and crossed them over her chest. “And what am I supposed to tell the healer? ‘Just ignore the creepy mask. He’s, uh, hiding a horrible burn scar?’”</p><p>“You jest, but I see that as a perfectly valid reason,” he retorted, his voice still straining.</p><p>Erik stepped through the door open before Telyra could argue. “Frea’s on her way back.”</p><p>“All right,” Telyra said. “Thanks.”</p><p>“I see he’s awake,” he remarked, moving the stand next to Telyra.</p><p>“Do not speak as if I am not here,” Miraak muttered. </p><p>“I’d rather not speak of you at all,” Erik snarled.</p><p>Telyra groaned and ran her hand through her pale locks as she took a seat in the armchair near the fireplace. Sinking into the cushion, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes. Her hands tingled from the extended use of her magic, and every muscle in her body demanded she rest.</p><p>“Stop,” she ordered, though her voice was not strong enough to press her demand. “I don’t have it in me to get in the middle of this.”</p><p>Erik apologized after a moment of silence.</p><p>The door opened again, and Frea and the healer walked in with a great deal of medical supplies in a basket.</p><p>“Are you well, Telyra?” Frea asked.</p><p>“Just tired,” she replied.</p><p>“This is Ragnar?” the healer asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Erik replied.</p><p>“I am Risja,” the healer said, stepping next to Miraak. “I will need to remove your mask.”</p><p>“He prefers it stay on,” Telyra answered on his behalf, waving her hand. “Don’t ask. Just... heal around it. Please.”</p><p>“That is... a strange request,” Frea said.</p><p>“We live in strange times,” Erik retorted with a forced chuckle. “Please. We’re exhausted and just want to get our friend taken care of.”</p><p>“Then I will do what I can,” Risja resigned.</p><p>The healer leaned over Miraak’s body and observed the various lacerations, bruises, and breaks, tutting softly.</p><p>“I see you’ve had some healing done already,” she mentioned as her hands traveled over his skin, ignoring his grunts of protest. “Rudimentary, but enough to prevent him bleeding out.”</p><p>“Healing’s not my strong suit,” Telyra muttered, raising her head to look at the healer but meeting Miraak’s masked gaze instead.</p><p>“Well, Ragnar,” Risja began, “I will have to put you to sleep. The level of healing required and the resulting pain will likely put you under anyway, but I do not want to risk sending you into shock.”</p><p>Moments passed as the healer waited for Miraak’s response. Perhaps it was distrust or fear holding his tongue, but Telyra had no way of knowing with that damned mask hiding any expression on his face.</p><p>“I understand,” he finally said.</p><p>Relief filled the sigh Telyra released as she again let her head fall back against the cushion. If he cooperated, then everything would be fine, she thought. Everything would be fine.</p>
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